Leaving Shadows Behind
by Stryker Young
Summary: Helga has to deal with Olga coming home and dancing around for her parent's delight. Olga has to deal with dancing for their parent's delight in general. When the two of them both get tired of dancing, they decide to go out for the night. What ensues is a shock to both. Rated T for something at the end.


**Leaving Shadows Behind**

Helga sighed as she stared out the window of her room. Today was one of those days that she wished she wasn't a Pataki. Well she wished she wasn't a Pataki _every day_ , but it was more intense today.

She'd just gotten her report card.

And Olga was coming home.

The fact that her older sister was coming back from wherever she'd went this time actually did make her happy. They'd been on much better terms of late, but that was mostly because Olga had run into her old fiancé Doug and figured out the truth of his disappearance. Helga still couldn't understand how her older sister had been so understanding, but she had been, and had even done her the favor of keeping their parents out of the loop.

"Olga! Get down here, Olga's gonna be here soon!"

"Helga," Helga growled as she adjusted her dress and trudged down the stairs.

At twelve years old she'd basically given up telling her father that her name wasn't Olga.

When she got downstairs her mother and father were already dressed for the occasion. Big-Bob was wearing a tux that was equal in cost to a car, and her mother was wearing a sequin gown equal in price to a house. Helga scowled and figitted with the red lace dress they'd forced her into. It was the most expensive out of them. Ever since her father had hit jackpot in the progressing cell phone business, he'd been obsessing over making sure the cost of her clothing made up for her lacking looks. She'd yet to grow into her nose, her brow was still connected, her upper lip was too big, and she really, _really_ wanted her chin to grow out so it didn't look like her face just melded into her neck; in short, she didn't blame him for trying.

"Stop messing with that dress!" Bob shouted at her. "The more you touch it the more its value drops!"

"Sorry, _Bob_ ," Helga groaned.

"Oh, I can't _wait_ for Olga to get here!" Miriam cooed, taking another drink from her "smoothie". "It's been forever since we've seen her."

"Yeah, can't wait to bask in her glory!"

"Quiet girly, and go get the food ready for your sister!" Bob boomed. "She's gonna be starving when she gets here!"

"Doubt it," Helga muttered.

Olg had developed a slight anorexia problem due to a comment made by Miriam about her figure. Helga was working on talking her out of it, but Olga was proving tricky and persistant.

She set the table up and thought of her friends playing baseball in the lot, wishing she could be with them. They'd moved to a condo outside of town so Big Bob could flaunt his wealth in more favorable surroundings. She missed all of them, even Harold. She'd give anything to miss her sister coming home, even if she did want to see her. Olga by herself was fine. Olga with her parents around was nearly impossible to deal with.

The squealing in the dining room instantly gave away who'd arrived. She sat down in an empty chair and tapped the long table with her fingers, waiting for her parents to calm down.

"Oh, I know I know, I've missed you both too! Why don't you wait in the living room and I'll meet you there."

Helga smiled and stood, brushing her dress off as she listened to her parents chatter. Olga rushed around the corner and beamed at her, then held back a squeal as she wrapped her arms around her and squeezed.

"You're _sooo_ pretty!" she cried quietly. "But that dress doesn't fit properly and doesn't match with your eyes."

"Thanks sis I missed you too," Helga retorted as her sister held her at arms length.

"I wish Dad would realize that you need more simple dresses, so it doesn't take away from your pretty face!" Olga sighed, touching her cheek. "Now, show me your grades!"

Helga smiled and pulled her report card from the belt around her dress. She handed it to Olga and watched her sister open it and scan them. Olga put her hand to her mouth and gasped.

"Oh my _gosh_ you got all A's!" she shrieked, jumping up and down. "I can't _believe_ it, this is wonderful!"

"Settle down, Olg, I'm not becoming the president," Helga laughed.

"Have you told them yet?" Olga asked.

"No, I haven't, and I'm not going to."

"What?" Olga examined the grimace on Helga's face and her brow creased. "But, why not?"

"Then it'll open up that whole 'Oh, but Olga, your sister could do that in her _sleep_! Why don't you find the cure for cancer and I'll get you a pony.'"

"Olga?"

"Yeah, you know, since Dad can't remember my name if you paid him."

Olga stuck her lip out and brushed some of Helga's bangs away.

"I'm sorry."

"Hey, forget it," Helga said with a shrug. "C'mon, before Dad has a fit."

"Olga! Hurry up so we can celebrate your coming home!"

"Coming Dad!" Olga called, throwing her arms around Helga one more time before they went into the den.

"Ah, _there's_ my little girl!" Bob shouted when he saw them.

"Yes, I'm sorry to have kept her," Olga laughed, nudging Helga.

"Oh, honey, we were talking about you," Miriam told her.

Olga tried to think of something to say, but she just folded her arms in front of her and smiled. Helga leaned against the doorframe and watched her parents fawn over Olga, having her sit down and fix her perfect hair and gush over her new accomplishments. The whole time she could see all the tension in her older sister's face. When she was younger she hadn't understood what Olga had to put herself through to get perfection, but she was starting to see it.

"Oh, uh," Olga suddenly started, glancing at Helga before pulling out her grades. "I wanted to show you something."

Helga tensed as she unfolded it and handed it to their father. She suddenly wanted to disappear.

"These must be your grades!" Bob boomed, his face lighting up. "All A's again I bet!"

"Yes, they _are_ all A's," Olga said, watching her parents examine the paper. "But they're not mine."

She held out her hand to Helga; her sister hesitated, but forced herself to go over and stand beside her.

"Oh, these're _yours_?" Bob groaned. He held the paper out for Helga to take. "What's the big deal, Olga? Your sister could get grades like this in her sleep!"

"D-Dad," Olga stammered.

"Why don't you find the cure for cancer, honey, and I'll get you a pony!"

He and Miriam laughed at his joke and Helga scowled.

"That's that then," she said, snatching the paper, sticking her nose up and walking away. "Glad to have you back, Olga."

"Helga, wait!" Olga called, desperation in her voice.

"Don't worry about her," Miriam insisted, taking a sip from her "smoothie". "Oh, play us one of your recital pieces!"

Olga sighed and went to the piano, her fingers tickling the keys but her mind on her sister. She was finally starting to see what she went through on a daily basis, and it hurt to watch.

* * *

"Hi."

Helga slapped her pink diary closed and looked up at her sister. She tried to smile at her.

"How was dinner?" she asked.

"Not that great," Olga admitted as she carefully stepped in. Helga didn't flinch or glare, so she continued to the bed and sat down. "Mom kept offering me her 'smoothie', and Dad didn't want to talk about anything but his business or how great I'm going to look when he introduces me to all his underlings."

"At least he doesn't look at you and ask, 'What's going to distract from your unibrow, and how much is it going to cost me?'" Helga pointed out.

"You know, if you want, I could fix it for you."

Helga glared up at her.

"Why? So I can look prettier?"

"No, Helgi, you look pretty no matter what. But I know it bothers you."

"It...doesn't bother me..."

Olga smiled and fiddled with Helga's pigtail.

"Helgi, it's okay if you don't like it. It doesn't mess with your authority or anything."

"The last thing I need is for the _guys_ to start calling me Olga, _Olga_ ," Helga insisted, shoving her diary under her pillow.

"You don't look like me, Helga, and you never will."

"Thanks, I feel _sooo_ much better."

Olga grabbed her arm and pulled her up.

"Hey, what're you - "

Helga stopped talking when her sister dragged her to her mirror and made her face it, wrapping her arms around her shoulders.

"What?" Helga growled.

"You know what I see?" Olga asked. "I see a twelve year old girl - "

"Doi!"

"With the kind of long blonde hair a lot of the _other_ girls would _die_ to have."

Helga blinked.

"And you've got great big blue eyes and a sweet smile that could knock a guy dead. You don't need makeup to look your best, either..."

Olga felt her sister shake a little.

"Not a lot of girls can look so intimidating in that pink dress of yours either," she laughed. "And none of them are as smart and funny and all around brilliant as you are."

"Why are you saying all this?"

"Because someone needs to tell you. I know you don't believe that you are, but you're really pretty, Helga, in more ways than one. And one day you're going to be one of the most beautiful people in this world."

She turned her sister to face her and saw that, for the first time, Helga was floored.

"You aren't like me at all. You're brave, and beautiful, and you can do anything you set your mind too without any effort. I've had to try my hardest all my life to be the kind of person who can knock a room into silence because they all know who I am."

She smiled.

"You keep moving in the direction you are, and you'll pass me with your eyes closed. I'm jealous."

"Olga..."

Olga squeezed her shoulders when tears started to form in the corner of Helga's eyes.

"I'm not any of that though," Helga insisted, wiping her face with her forearm. "I'm just a dopey girl."

"No you're not, and you know it."

"If I'm not then why is Dad always comparing me to you? Why do our parents love you more than me?"

"Helga they don't..."

Helga shot her a glare and Olga sighed.

"I don't know," she admitted. "There's nothing that special about me. I'm just a doll who does what they want. Nothing about me is real."

She poked Helga's nose.

"That's what makes you better. You're real, you're honest, and no one can change you."

Helga glanced away as she smiled again.

"So if you want your brow, then keep it. It's completely up to you."

Helga bit her lip, then scratched her arm.

"I guess I should get rid of it," she mumbled. "C-Cause then the guys can't make fun of me for it anymore."

Olga beamed.

"Great!" she cried, grabbing Helga in another hug before going to her closet. "We'll go to the mall then. I know some _great_ stylists there!"

"Why the - "

Helga froze when she remembered what was _in_ her closet.

"Wait, _Olga_ \- "

Her sister pulled the door open and stiffened, taking in the statue staring at her. It was adorned with Christmas lights and costume jewelry, and encircled by candles and photos of a very familiar boy.

"Is...Is that _Arnold_?" Olga managed to squeak.

"It's just an art project!" Helga cried, wedging herself between her sister and her obsession. "It means nothing! I-I-I-I..."

Olga stared at her sister as she stammered, then backed away and sighed. She stepped passed Helga and grabbed one of her sweaters, then handed it to her.

"You can explain on the way," she said.

* * *

"And that's all, okay?"

Olga smiled at the brutal yet embarrassed tone in her sister's voice. They were sitting in the salon at the mall, Olga at a table getting her nails done while Helga's eyebrows were fixed.

"Okay," she said slowly. "And this started when he held an umbrella over you when you were four?"

"...Yes..." Helga said grudgingly.

Olga giggled as the manicurist finished off her purple nail and set her hands under the dryer.

"I think that's adorable," she said, turning to give her sister a teasing grin. "Almost like something from a romantic comedy."

Helga glared at her out of the corner of her eye. Her head was resting on a pillow as the stylist started to apply the hot wax to her brow.

"What's so comedic about it?" she growled.

"Well, if what I saw is combined with the way you treat him every time you come in contact with him, all we need is a director and cameras and you both could have your own TV show."

" _Ow_!" Helga shrieked when the woman pulled the paper and her hair off her face.

"Pain is beauty darling, women must come to grips with this," the stylist said with an eyeroll.

"Ramona, she's twelve," Olga reminded her.

Ramona sighed through her nose.

"I _suppose_ I can try to numb the brow with some ice cubes," she remarked as she turned. "Don't move, darling."

"Jeez, who peed in _her_ crackerbox?" Helga growled.

" _Helga_!" Olga rebuked, even as she laughed.

Helga grinned, then cringed when Ramona came back.

"How long is this going to take?" she grumbled.

"Not much longer, darling," Ramona snarled as she rubbed the ice all across her brow. "So long as you keep still."

"Do you want to have your nails painted too, Helga?" Olga asked as she removed her hands from the dryer and inspected them.

"I thought this was _all_ I was here for."

"It's just a question. They could probably do the baseball pattern or something."

"Really?" Helga asked as she lifted her hand up to stare at it. "That...sounds kinda cool."

"Who knows, you might get his attention."

Helga's cheeks burned and a smile formed on her face. It fell to a grimace when Ramona started plucking at her other eyebrow.

"You have a beautiful brow darling," she crooned. "Why you let it overgrow as such is bewildering."

"I'm _twelve_. Beauty isn't a big deal to me yet."

"Well, when _I_ was your age I was already conscientious of my looks. I regret that I did not start sooner, and so will you."

Helga rolled her eyes and glanced at Olga. She grinned when she saw her sister was doing the same thing.

"There, it is done," Ramona declared as she pulled away and grabbed a mirror. "See why you should take care of yourself?"

Helga looked into the mirror and could see what she meant. Her brows appeared so delicate and feminine that they made her feel weird. Olga watched her trace them with her fingers, an expression of wonder on her face, and smiled.

"Different, huh?" she asked.

Helga snapped back to reality and set the mirror down.

"It's _too_ different," she insisted. "I mean, I-I don't look like me!"

"But do you like it? If you don't, they'll grow back."

Helga bit her lip, then looked over at Olga.

"I...think I like it, yeah..."

"There you go then, that's all you need. No one's opinion of you matters more than your own, Helga."

Helga nodded as Olga's manicurist came back and started to coat her nails with protectant.

"Would you like your nails done, sweetie?" she asked.

"I guess," Helga said, looking down at her hands again. "Can you really make them look like baseballs?"

"Of course I can dear."

"Told you this place is great," Olga said with a wink.

Helga smiled. The next half hour was filled with her nails being painted while the ladies fawned over her and Olga. Her sister opted for a pedicure as well while she waited for her sister, and the two of them laughed and talked like they never had before. It was becoming the most fun girl-thing Helga had ever done.

"Wow, they _are_ good!" she exclaimed as she and Olga walked out of the salon. "My nails have never been so interesting before!"

"I _know_ right?" Olga gushed, taking her sister's hand and examining them. "We need to do this more often. You haven't even touched the surface of nail art!"

Helga laughed at how childish she sounded. Olga smiled at her, then stopped when she saw a clothing store.

"Oh my gosh, we have to go in!" she cried, dragging Helga towards it. "Their clothes are _so_ cute!"

"W-We're just going in for _you_ right?" Helga asked nervously. "'C-Cause there's no way you're getting me in some designer dress!"

"It's chock full of clothes, Helgi! We'll find something you'll like!"

Helga groaned as her sister pulled her through the store. Pictures of girls in frilly dresses and expensive blouses were all around her, and she suddenly felt quite nauseous.

"Excuse me," Olga said to one of the workers. "Can you help us find some clothes for my sister?"

" _Olga_ \- " Helga growled.

"What is it you're looking for?"

"Well, she plays a lot of sports, so she needs things that can handle wear-and-tear. It can't look too girly, more tough and tomboyish. Oh, and your favorite color is pink, right Helga?"

Helga stared at her sister in shock, somehow managing to nod at her correct description.

"We have a wide selection of sports wear, most in the clearance section. If you need any further assistance, just call."

"Thank you!"

She turned a grin to Helga.

"Did I surprise you?"

"Yes," Helga admitted. "How'd you do that?"

"I'm a good observer. I have to be, with Mom and Dad the way they are. I have to know them inside out so I can please them more thoroughly, otherwise they get bored, and probably take it out on you."

Her grip tightened on Helga's arm as she started to browse the althetic shirts.

"How hard are they on you?" she asked softly.

"They aren't really hard," Helga lied. "They don't see me a lot."

"But when they do?"

"...Bob yells. Miriam drinks. They don't show you their usual selves, Olg. They're nice to you."

"I know. I hate it."

Helga gazed at the hard look on her sister's face. It was foreign to her to see Olga seem so...harsh, bitter.

"Don't change your opinion of them just because of me," Helga said. "They love you, so you should love them."

"Anyone who treats _my_ sister like dirt doesn't deserve love, Helga."

Her comment surprised her sister, but she ignored it and held a white and pink striped shirt up to Helga's torso.

"This looks nice."

"Yeah."

"Do you want to try it on?"

"Sure."

Olga gave it to her, finally releasing her arm, and started to check the shorts. Helga watched her a moment, then went back to the shirts. She found two more that she liked, mostly because they resembled her dress, and matched them with the shorts Olga found. After trying them on, they found two outfits that Helga liked, along with four pairs of pants and two tank tops.

"Ready to head home?"

"Yeah, it's late."

"You think Mom and Dad will like the outfits?"

"Yeah, if they're on _you_."

* * *

"Helga, _where_ have you been?"

Helga growled and stepped into the living room. Olga had gone upstairs to put her clothes away, leaving her to face their parents alone.

"I was out," Helga said.

"Out where?" Bob snapped.

"Just _out_ , okay? With _Olga_ , if that makes it any better."

"Oh, well, as long as your sister was with you. You didn't drag her to any crummy games or anything, did you? 'Cause you know she's too busy for your stupid hobbies."

"We went to the _mall_ ," Helga snarled through her teeth.

"Really?" Miriam asked, a pleased look on her face. "Oh, do you hear that, Bob? Seems Olga is finally rubbing off on our little girl!"

"Oh, so _now_ I'm your little girl?"

"Hey hey! Don't talk to your mother that way!" Bob shouted. "Apparently Olga ain't rubbed off enough!"

"Good! If she had, I'd just be a brainwashed _puppet_ dancing around for your selfish _pleasure_!"

Helga's words hung in the air, strangling them into silence. She wanted to crawl into a hole, or at the very least, take back what she'd said.

" _What_ did you say?" Bob hissed.

"Uh...I..." Helga stammered as he stood.

"Olga is _not_ a puppet! She _likes_ being successful, and smart, and creative, and all the other things she is! We _support_ her, no matter what."

"Oh yeah?" Helga shouted, again without thinking. "Well, did you know you've caused her to have an eating disorder?" Miriam put a hand to her mouth in shock. "Or get little to no sleep? Or stress if she doesn't get the highest grades in her class? Or play the best at her recitals, _or look prettier than any other girl in the world? If you don't leave her alone you'll_ _ **kill**_ _her -_

Bob whipped his hand into the air and Helga flinched. It came down with a loud smack, knocking Helga to the floor.

It took her a moment to realize that she'd felt no pain.

She sat there, frozen, then looked up at Olga's back. Her head was twisted to the side, tears welling in her eyes, as the rest of her body stayed stiff as a statue. Bob and Miriam were staring at her, jaws slack, eyes wide.

"...Olga," Bob whimpered.

Olga reached up and gripped her chin, then turned an icy glare to her father.

"Don't _ever_ try to hit Helga again," she said evenly.

Helga scooted away, staring at her sister. She couldn't comprehend what was going on, not yet anyway. Had Olga just taken a slap for her?

"Olga, hunny, he didn't mean it," Miriam said as Bob stepped back.

"Not for me he didn't," Olga growled, still staring at her father. "But he meant it for Helga, and that's enough. We're leaving."

"W-We're what?" Helga asked quietly.

"I've purchased an apartment not far from the school. It doesn't cost much, but I like it, and I think Helga will too."

"Olga, you can't just take her - " Miriam protested.

"Stop me then!" Olga challenged. "Give me a good reason why she should stay here with you two treating her like _trash_!"

Her parents couldn't answer her. She squared her shoulders and turned back to Helga; her sister swallowed hard and took her hand, allowing her sister to help her to her feet.

"I'm assuming there'll be paperwork or something to fill out," Olga said as she brushed off Helga's dress. "I'll be by in the morning to sort it out."

No one stopped her from leading Helga out the front door of the condo.

* * *

"What happens now?"

"Well, you move in with me, I get the rights to take responsibility for you instead of Mom and Dad, and we live our lives the best we can," Olga stated, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel of her car. "Simple enough, right?"

"And you think Dad is just going to roll over and let you take me?" Helga asked as she straightened her dress, examining her baseball patterned nails. "That'd make him look really bad."

"Yeah, I know. But I have to give it a shot, maybe convince him to make up a backstory that won't shame him."

"You could bribe him. I'm not worth much, and it's not like anyone in his company would remember me anyway."

"Just because Mom and Dad don't see you, doesn't mean other people don't either. People will notice, and the more that do, the more I'd have to pay him off."

She reached over and grabbed Helga's hand.

"The fact that we're talking about paying his silence is disturbing. Besides, I'm not really made of that kind of money."

"Then tell him it's a favor," Helga suggested, giving her hand a squeeze. "To make up for the fact that he slapped you."

She glanced over at Olga; her sister's face was still pinched.

"How much does it hurt?"

"Not too badly," Olga insisted. "Like a bee sting."

Helga let it drop without a fight. With how thin Olga was becoming, she was surprised that she'd stayed upright at all.

She yawned and Olga pulled her hand away to make a left turn.

"It's going to be a little bit longer to get to the neighborhood," Olga told her. "Leave it to Dad to ditch the slums the moment his company hits it big. You can get some sleep if you want."

"Slums?" Helga mumbled, her eyelids already heavy.

"Yeah, you know, our old neighborhood. I bought one of the apartments outside Green's Meats. Not very sleek, like Dad's new condo, but it's livable."

"Sounds great."

She meant it. For once, something in her life sounded great.

"Thank you, sis," she said as she reached out for Olga's hand again.

Olga grabbed hold and squeezed. Helga fell asleep shortly after, her head resting against the door. Olga took a deep breath in and let it out through her teeth. She was going to have to find a job, somewhere close and with enough hours for her to get good money but not so many that she would be leaving Helga alone most of the day. She'd have to pay for Helga's schooling too, if she could win custody, and food and utility bills every month. Was she ready for that kind of responsibility? Could she handle the stress and still give Helga a better life than the one they'd just left?

She stopped at a STOP sign and looked over at Helga. She was shifting in her sleep, muttering something fitfully. Olga reached over and smoothed her hair, staring at her a moment, then turned back and continued driving.

She could do it. She touched the side of her face where her father's slap had left a purple bruise. She'd have to.

* * *

 **This may be a little intense but I really wanted to write it. Hope you enjoyed!**


End file.
